


fire emblem three houses isolation ficlets

by asael



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Swap, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23659771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asael/pseuds/asael
Summary: Short ficlets prompted on Twitter, all written in the first two weeks I was stuck at home. Multiple pairings, prompts, and ratings.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Claude von Riegan/Hubert von Vestra, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Claude von Riegan, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 12
Kudos: 136





	1. Sylvain/Claude, things they notice about each other

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to post these all to AO3 so I wouldn't lose them in the depths of Twitter and gdocs forever, so I'm sorry for posting this massive chunk of tags and pairings. If you're looking for something specific, please check the chapters - each one is titled with pairing or characters & the prompt.
> 
> This first one was prompted by @kahtonotkayto!

It’s Claude’s eyes that he notices first. They’re beautiful, a clear green that Sylvain would compare to forests or maybe oceans if he were feeling poetic. Emeralds are the obvious comparison, but there’s something hidden in Claude’s eyes, like the depths of the sea, like the darkness of a forest. 

Not that Sylvain would ever say any of that aloud. But though Claude’s smile is the most obviously attractive thing about him, his eyes are a hundred times more interesting, because that’s where an observant person might see the truth of those smiles. And as it turns out, so many of them aren’t true at all.

That’s the first thing that catches Sylvain’s attention. It’s impossible to miss when he’s seen it in the mirror so often, and maybe that should be off-putting. Maybe that should tell him to steer clear of Claude von Riegan with his pretty eyes and his false smiles. But Sylvain has never been good at staying away from things that might hurt him.

So he notices more things: Claude’s hands on his bow, clever and certain. Claude’s ease with poisons. The true spark of interest whenever someone talks about secrets, or mysteries, or the hidden parts of history. He notices how easily Claude pretends to be at ease and how rarely he seems to actually feel that way.

And on the night of the ball, when the monastery is full of light and laughter and dancing, he notices Claude slipping away.

Sylvain follows, of course.

Outside, in the moonlight, Claude is sitting on a stone bench, looking up at the stars. He turns when he hears Sylvain’s footsteps.

“Bored of the ball already?” Claude says. He must have seen the girls clustered around Sylvain, but he doesn’t mention them.

“My feet are tired,” Sylvain says. “I need a break.” He smiles, and Claude mirrors it. Perfect matching emptiness.

“I did notice you seemed tired of it all,” Claude says, and he says it so casually that Sylvain almost doesn’t think anything of it, except that Claude is looking at him and there is something assessing in his gaze, and then Sylvain thinks about what he has just said.

He wonders suddenly what else Claude has noticed. There under the light of the moon, he realizes that he wants very badly to find out.


	2. Dimitri/Claude, baby wyverns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @shittlesA!

It’s coincidence that brings Dimitri to the wyvern eyrie at the same time as Claude. He spends very little time there - he has no reason to, his younger years were spent learning to ride, not fly. But he’s there on an errand for Professor Byleth today, fetching a text on wyvern riding that was left in a storage room here.

That’s the only reason Dimitri is there at all.

His mind is on other things, and he’s retrieved the text and is halfway to the door when he hears something. He’d thought the eyrie deserted except for the wyverns - outside it is raining heavily, and no one wishes to fly in that. But he hears soft singing, and he pauses.

He can’t quite make out the words, and the melody is completely unfamiliar. Curiosity sparked, he follows the sound, walking quietly so as not to disturb the singer.

He finds Claude in a far corner of the eyrie. The stall he’s in holds no adult wyvern and the door leading to the outside is closed. There is a nest of cloth scraps and straw, Claude, and - 

A baby wyvern, curled in his lap.

Claude is hand-feeding it with gentle care. There’s no mother around, and Dimitri remembers hearing word of a wild wyvern killed by hunters, a clutch of eggs found. He looks closer and sees three more wyverns in the stall, babies all of them, tummies bulging with food and eyes heavy.

Claude is singing softly as he feeds the last one. Even this close, Dimitri can’t understand it - it is in another language, and he doesn’t know enough to say which. Somehow that doesn’t surprise him. If anyone might know foreign lullabies, surely it would be Claude.

He watches silently for longer than he should. Claude, occupied with the wyvern, does not notice him. He watches how gentle Claude is, how he doesn’t fear nips or scratches, how he tenderly cleans the wyvern once it’s eaten and watches as it curls up for a nap.

Then Dimitri leaves, before he can be seen. It would have felt wrong to interrupt, he thinks, wrong to break the quiet peace that he’s never before seen settle on Claude. But he doesn’t forget it, not then, and not in the years to come. He doesn’t forget Claude’s compassion, his care for the abandoned and the weak. He doesn’t forget the quiet, true smile he saw on Claude’s lips.


	3. Hilda/Sylvain, fake dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @rawmettwurst!

Hilda tried not to regret anything in her life. It was a waste of energy and emotion, besides which, who could regret living life so fabulously? Unfortunately, she was slowly but surely beginning to regret telling Holst she was bringing a date to his wedding.

Sure, she wasn’t seeing anyone right now, but she had no intention of showing up alone and suffering her brother’s pity - not to mention all the knowing looks from his friends. She’d figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find someone, and if all else failed, one of her friends would pretend to be her date for the night.

But now the wedding was in three days and she had no one. Marianne and Lorenz were on vacation together that whole weekend. Ignatz couldn't lie to save his life, Leonie had looked at her like she was crazy. And Claude had _said_ he didn’t want to make things weird with his new boyfriend, but she was pretty sure he’d just wanted to make her life harder for some sick, twisted Claude von Riegan reason.

“Oh,” he’d said, as if he’d had an idea, “but maybe Dimitri’s friend will go with you. Remember Sylvain?”

She did remember him, and dismissed the idea as a terrible one. He was pretty, but obviously trouble, and she didn’t need any of that. But as the wedding inched closer and closer, and more and more of her actual friends refused, she began to reconsider.

Sylvain _was_ pretty, which would impress her brother and his friends. He was also, she knew, weak-willed and easily led by anyone with a strong personality and a good pair of tits, both of which Hilda had.

It wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

And that, of course, was how Hilda ended up at her brother’s wedding pretending to be madly in love with Sylvain Gautier.

Needless to say, it all went downhill from there.


	4. Dedue + Claude, flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @apostaroni!

“Those are Duscur anemones, aren’t they?”

Dedue looked up from his work, hands still dirty from the weeds he’d been pulling. They were in a neat pile by his feet - there was no reason to make a mess of such a simple task. A few feet from him stood Claude von Riegan, smiling, brows raised in interest.

For a long moment, Dedue considered Claude. They did not speak often - but then, Dedue did not speak often with anyone outside of his own house. And Claude, already so clearly an outsider, had all the reason in the world to avoid someone who could drag his reputation down simply by being seen together.

But here he was.

“Yes,” Dedue said. “I am surprised you recognized it.” The plant in question had not yet flowered, and though its leaves had a distinct shape, Dedue had not expected anyone outside of Duscur to know that.

“I had a book of flowers at home,” Claude said, neatly avoiding any specifics about that home, as he always did. “The Duscur anemone was in it, with some great illustrations. Supposedly the roots can be brewed into tea that brings sleep easily.”

Dedue considered Claude, wondering if he would need to protect his plants. But Claude smiled and raised his hands. “Whoa, don’t worry, I’m not gonna dig it up. What I really want to see are the flowers. The pictures don’t do them justice, I bet, and I’ve never seen them in real life.”

For a long moment, Dedue was silent. Then, following an impulse he could not name, he inclined his head in a careful nod. “It should bloom soon. Come back next week if you wish to see it. I am only here in the early afternoon.”

He meant that to be a way for Claude to both see the flowers and avoid being seen with him, avoid the whispers that might result. But it seemed he did not know Claude as well as he’d thought.

“Great,” Claude said, his smile brilliant. “I’ll come by after classes next week. See you then!”

And then he was gone, off to whatever else captured the attention of a person like Claude, and Dedue did not know what to think.

He supposed it wouldn’t be unpleasant to have company from time to time.


	5. Hilda/Edelgard, tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @diathrosis!

“Ohhh, I’m really tired today, you know? After that last mission I just don’t think I have the energy to practice at _all_. I’d better just sit out for today.” Hilda twirled a piece of hair around her finger, looking at the other students with their axes.

Most of them turned away to find other partners, either believing everything she said or deciding it wasn’t worth it to try to call her on it. But not Edelgard.

Of course not Edelgard.

She hefted her axe easily. Small as she was, Hilda could see her finely muscled limbs, her carefully honed strength. She let her eyes linger, because it made Edelgard shift under her gaze and because it was simply a nice thing to look at.

“Come on,” Edelgard said, a challenge in her voice. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you said the same thing last time. How are you going to win any battles if you’re out of practice?”

“Oh, but I’ve got nothing on you, Princess.” Hilda smiled at her just the way she might smile at a boy whose help she wanted. “Maybe I’ll come along with your class next time? I think you’ll win all the battles for me.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Edelgard said, but her cheeks were pink. “Even if you did come along, I require everyone to do their part. And I’ve seen you fight, Hilda. You’re very skilled.”

Hilda tried to ignore the flush of pleasure that filled her at those words. She fingered the practice axe she held, biting her lip. “Now you’re just trying to flatter me, Princess.” She batted her eyelashes.

Edelgard flushed, then frowned, then moved without warning, her axe swinging forward in what would have been a deadly blow had they been using real weapons. Hilda moved without thinking, bringing her axe up in a smooth motion to parry the blow, then sliding one foot forward and letting the momentum from catching Edelgard’s axe carry her into an answering blow, sudden and vicious.

Edelgard blocked that, and now she was grinning, a small pleased thing. “There it is.”

Hilda frowned. Foolish of her to be baited, but at the same time -

There was a certain thrill in her blood, looking at Edelgard. She raised her axe.

“All right, your Highness. Let’s go.”


	6. Dimitri/Claude, body swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @okumurakoushuu!

When Claude first awoke in Dimitri’s body, he thought it was a dream.

He’d never had a dream like that before, but dreams were odd things. Who knew what could be dredged up from the depths of his subconscious? He was ready to shrug it off, roll over and go back to sleep, until he reached up to brush his hair out of his face and -

His braid wasn’t there.

After that, it went about as one might expect. Confusion. Momentary fear. Suppressed panic. And then, because this was Claude, burning curiosity.

How in the world could something like this have happened? If he was in the body of the Prince of Faerghus, did that mean Dimitri was in his? How could he get back to his own?

There was only one of those questions that he could hope to answer at this moment. He considered changing, but it was still the middle of the night and Claude did not feel entirely comfortable with the idea of undressing Dimitri’s body, no matter how often he’d idly considered it in his less appropriate moments.

So instead he slipped out of Dimitri’s room, still clad in Dimitri’s pajamas, and snuck down the hallway.

It was harder to sneak in Dimitri’s body. He was a little taller, which did odd things to Claude’s balance, and he’d trained more for strength than subtle footsteps. Still, Claude managed, and it was mere moments before he was tapping softly on his own door.

The door opened only a crack at first. Oddly familiar green eyes peeked out at him, then widened. Claude watched himself peer out at the hallway, then swing the door wider and hiss, “Get inside.”

It was weird, to say the least. He looked different from the outside. Was this how people always saw him? Well, normally he’d have less bed head, at least. He moved inside and shut the door, and then for a moment they stood in silence, staring at each other.

Finally, Claude ventured, “Dimitri?” It could be someone else, he supposed. They might have all swapped, everyone in the school. But the expression of relief on his own face was enough of an answer to that.

“ _Claude_ ,” Dimitri said, the tone of relief in his voice something that Claude wasn’t sure he’d ever made himself.

It turned out that neither of them had answers. Dimitri had woken up like this, just as Claude had, and neither of them could think of how it might have come about. They spoke for at least an hour, hushed whispers to be sure of waking no one, but eventually all they could do was agree that they should sleep again. It might switch them back, Claude suggested, and Dimitri said that even if it didn’t, they could speak to Hanneman. Or Manuela. Or _someone_.

So Claude crept to the door again, but just before he could leave, Dimitri caught his arm.

“Wait,” he said, “there’s someone in the hall.” 

There was. Claude heard the footsteps pass - Felix, maybe, or Sylvain, or another classmate out late.

“Best if they don’t see you - me, I mean - leave this room,” Dimitri said.

Claude’s smile went just a bit thin. “Course. Can’t have you staining that reputation of yours, huh?” He kept it light, teasing, but something unpleasant churned in his gut.

Dimitri’s eyes - his own eyes - widened, guileless in a way that was deeply unfamiliar. “It was your reputation I was considering, Claude. I won’t have you thought of as a - well. Someone accepting midnight guests.”

Claude swallowed most of a laugh, suddenly feeling much better. “Believe me, your Princeliness, if people start whispering about you being my _midnight guest_ , I’ll be nothing but flattered.” He grinned, and watched with interest at the slight flush of pink on his own cheeks. “See you tomorrow.”

He winked and slipped out the door, unsure what the next day might hold but rather pleased, now, with how the night had gone.


	7. Marianne + Dedue, greenhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @silmarwen_t!

Marianne prefers getting her assigned chores done by herself. There are a lot of reasons for this - she can take her time, she doesn’t have to work around someone else, she can make mistakes without anyone seeing. But most of all, doing chores alone means she doesn’t have to make small talk.

She’s terrible at it. She never knows what to say, never knows what the correct response is. She ends up feeling uncomfortable and awkward, and she’s sure no one actually _enjoys_ talking to her.

Stable duty is her favorite, but she’s quickly realizing that gardening is a close second. It’s not because she’s good at it - she’s only okay - and it’s not really because she likes it.

It’s because when she has gardening duty, Dedue is nearly always there. And Dedue never speaks to her.

Not in a strange way, or a mean one - it’s more like he only speaks when there is a good reason to. She’d been nervous at first, because she’s always a little nervous around people, but over time she realized it wasn’t her. It wasn’t anything, except the way Dedue is.

He’ll answer if she asks a question, and very occasionally he has a question of his own - but otherwise they work together quietly, sharing space and helping each other and doing nothing else.

It’s nice. It’s exactly how Marianne prefers to work, and it seems that Dedue feels the same. She cannot express how much easier that makes things. Cannot express her gratitude.

She smiles at him, tentatively, one afternoon. He looks surprised, and smiles back, and that’s it.

Nothing else needs to be said.


	8. Hilda/Marianne, protecting each other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @quorniya!

“Behind you!”

Marianne didn’t even have a chance to turn. Hilda’s cry of warning came at the same time she moved, barreling past Marianne and easily catching the blade of her attacker’s sword on the edge of her axe.

In the chaos of battle, Marianne generally stayed back. Her use as a healer meant it was best to stay out of the thick of fighting, dodging in to heal someone’s wounds or help them get to safety. But she was surrounded now, a small troop of warriors having swung around behind the main force of their army.

It might have been terrifying, if Hilda wasn’t there. But Hilda was worth any ten men, and Marianne trusted her with everything - her fears, her heart, her safety.

“Oh, you thought two pretty girls alone would be easy targets?” Hilda taunted, striking another man down with ease. “I’m going to make you pay for making me break a sweat, and then we’ll see who’s an easy target!” She spun, disarming an archer with a thrown axe.

It was beautiful to watch, but Marianne was not so defenseless as they might have expected, either. Two men rushed Hilda at once, and Marianne swallowed the spike of fear she felt at the sight - turning it into action.

She raised a hand, calling on her magic, turning it in on itself - instead of helping her allies, drawing the life from her enemies. Nosferatu flared from her fingers and one of the men shuddered and crumpled, light leaving his eyes.

Hilda dispatched the other easily, and then they were safe again - for the moment, anyway. The battle still raged, and Hilda and Marianne only had time to exchange sweet smiles before they turned to face the rest of their enemies and the bulk of their allies, forces clashing on the battlefield.

And for all that they were surrounded by horror, Marianne felt safe so long as Hilda was at her side.


	9. Dimitri/Claude, mafia AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @missdhiarmada!

“A truce, then.” Edelgard did not smile, but Claude thought that she seemed reluctantly pleased. She had not expected this, certainly, when Claude asked for the meeting. She had not expected to see Dimitri there, and Claude had seen the way her posture tightened when she saw him, the way her second - Hubert Vestra, poisons expert and fierce bodyguard - reached for his gun.

But Claude had gotten things all calmed down, and negotiations had gone better than he’d feared. His eyes flickered to Dimitri, who nodded once. He looked unhappy, even a bit angry, but when he spoke all he said was, “Until the Agarthan Syndicate is dealt with, there will be peace between our families.”

They did not shake hands, but Edelgard left with a polite nod to them both, and Hubert didn’t glower more than was necessary.

A temporary truce was the best Claude could hope for. Edelgard claimed that her family had not truly been responsible for the tragedies Dimitri had suffered, but without any proof beyond her word, Dimitri could not forgive, and she was also unwilling to back down.

Claude had some of his people looking for that proof, of course. Unlike the Hresvelgs or the Blaiddyds with their gambling and arms dealing, his family thrives and profited on information. On secrets. And Claude was the most effective head in years, if he did say so himself.

“Not bad,” Claude said, standing from his seat in the middle of the table. He drifted towards Dimitri’s seat. With Edelgard and her lackey gone, they were alone - a sign of the trust Dimitri placed in him. But then, none of this would have been possible if he had not won Dimitri’s trust.

Whether he deserved it or not, even Claude wasn’t sure.

Dimitri sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “I kept my temper. It is necessary for now.” He looked up at Claude. “But if she breaks the agreement, I won’t hold back.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Claude said. Dimitri had dressed nicely for the occasion, the fit of his suit accentuating his shoulders. Claude did not attempt to hide his approving look. “We’ve done well today. Don’t we both deserve a little reward?”

Dimitri reached out, catching Claude's waist, drawing him closer. “Yes,” he said, and he surged up to capture Claude’s mouth, passionate and hungry.


	10. Dedue/Ashe, Modern AU first date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @ErythriteSea!

Ashe fidgeted with his cup of coffee, too nervous to drink it. It would only make him more fidgety, he knew, and that would be embarrassing. Besides, he didn’t even like coffee that much, but -

Well, he’d panicked, he guessed. It had been the first time the handsome owner of the local flower shop had ever really spoken to him - the first time they’d had an actual conversation. Ashe had been going in there for weeks, buying flowers and plants he didn’t really need, trying to get up the courage to finally ask Dedue out on a date, and when he had, he’d panicked and invited him to coffee.

It was a traditional first date, wasn’t it? And the bustling shop around them at least distracted from how awkward Ashe was. He hoped. 

At least their conversation was flowing. Dedue was a quiet man - something that Ashe found very sweetly attractive - but he asked Ashe insightful questions, listened intently to his answers, and though his own words were sparing he shared his thoughts in return.

Ashe learned that Dedue had no family, save for a close friend who he said was like a brother. He told Dedue about his own siblings, how they’d grown up in public housing, barely scraping by. They talked about school, and work, and simpler things like cooking and flowers and the books Ashe liked.

It was so easy to talk to Dedue. Ashe felt his nerves fading away, felt himself getting comfortable, his shoulders relaxing, his smile softening. His coffee went cold in his hands, and it was then that he realized something.

“You didn’t finish your drink,” Ashe said, concerned suddenly.

“Ah,” Dedue said, looking surprised. “I forgot.” He smiled then, eyes gentle, the barest of curves to his lips. “You didn’t either.”

“I got distracted talking to you,” Ashe said, cheeks flushing with his own admission. Dedue’s smile grew. “And, um, if I’m being honest… I don’t like coffee that much.”

“Do you like tea?”

“Yes,” Ashe said, blinking.

“Then perhaps next time you’ll let me show you a tea shop I enjoy.” Dedue did not look away, and Ashe felt his heart jump. 

“You want to… do this again?” he asked, smiling himself, unable to hide his happiness.

“I would,” Dedue said, and he reached across the table and touched Ashe’s hand so very gently. “Allow me to take you on another date.”

“Yes!” Ashe said, and if it came out a little more emphatically than he intended, he found that he did not care at all.


	11. Hubert/Claude, Modern AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @hndrdblssms_!

“Von Riegan.”

Claude looked up from his coffee, his smile curling up at the edges and growing sharper when he realized who was speaking to him. 

“Hubert,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Hubert merely raised an eyebrow, not bothering to point out that this coffee shop was nestled on the bottom floor of the buildings that housed both of their offices, and this was not the first time they’d run into each other here. Nor would it be the last.

“I heard that you got the Gloucester contract,” Hubert said. Though the seat across from Claude was empty, he did not take it. Claude was well aware that was deliberate - like this, Hubert could tower above him, slim and tall and intimidating in his well-cut dark business suit.

Well. Intimidating to someone else, perhaps. Claude only grinned up at him, as if Hubert were the person he’d most wanted to see on this fine day. “We did. Sorry your company lost out.” His words were entirely insincere, and he did not bother to make them seem otherwise.

“Our quote was cheaper, and we’re more established. It certainly makes one question why they would choose your Golden Deer firm over ours.” Hubert held his coffee - black and utterly unsweetened, Claude knew - but did not sip it. “You must have had a - _particularly_ creative presentation.”

“Why, Hubert,” Claude said, widening his eyes innocently. “Are you implying I did something underhanded?” His smile grew, wiping away that look of innocence, replacing it with something else entirely. “I think we both know that’s more your sort of thing. But since you’re so curious, I might be willing to tell you a thing or two about my creative tactics. If you buy me another cup of coffee.”

“Hm,” Hubert said, but there was the barest hint of amusement in his eyes. “You don’t drink coffee, Claude. You drink pure sugar. You are aware of that, aren’t you?”

Claude shook his cup. “Actually, by now it’s mostly air. I could really use another.”

Hubert looked at him for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then he returned to the counter and ordered another dark chocolate cinnamon mocha (with extra whip).

Claude watched him, idly wondering if this was going to be another coffee break that ended with them in one of the least used office bathrooms, door locked, Claude’s thighs around Hubert’s waist.

He didn’t think he’d mind that at all.


	12. Dimitri/Claude, jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @perstephrone!

Dimitri tried not to watch as Claude and Yuri spoke. What they talked about was truly none of his business - and anyway, what little he’d heard of their conversations before hadn’t contained much substance. They seemed to talk _around_ each other, their words laced with hidden meanings and subtext, and that had never been something Dimitri had any skill with.

It had nothing to do with him, in any case, except -

Except they seemed to understand each other in a way that left Dimitri feeling odd. He didn’t think they trusted each other. They rarely did anything together. He wasn’t sure they even liked each other - he’d once referred to Yuri as Claude’s friend, and Claude had laughed with real humor. 

And yet Yuri could keep up with Claude’s quick, clever mind, and Claude seemed to enjoy the challenge of talking to someone who kept him on his toes. At least, he never avoided talking to Yuri, and even sometimes sought him out.

Dimitri was watching them now, unable to stop himself. He saw Yuri say something that made Claude smile, saw Yuri lean a little closer, and something hot flowered in his chest. 

He looked away. It was that or do something especially foolish, like walk over and pull Claude away, or stare Yuri down, or kiss Claude in front of everyone until all he could think about was Dimitri.

Jealousy was unworthy of him, of Claude. He had to be better than that. 

But there was some part of Dimitri, dark and unkind, that wanted to keep all of those smiles for himself. There was a part of him, selfish and cruel, that wished for Claude’s heart to be his alone, in all ways.

He gathered his composure, turned, and left them to their conversation. He would not give into that part of himself. Not this time.


	13. Hubert/Claude, retainer swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by @undeadlifting!

In the years since he began serving Claude, Hubert has done many things that he is quite proud of.

He has kept Claude alive and safe - though admittedly this is easier in Fódlan, where it’s rare for people to target Claude specifically. Hubert wishes very much that he could have been at Claude’s side earlier, when he was alone and hated. He imagines sometimes what he could have done to the assassins sent after his lord, but as satisfying as those thoughts are, it is impossible to turn back time.

He has dealt vengeance and justice to Claude’s enemies, at his side and - in quieter ways - behind his back. Hubert tells Claude even about the things he knows Claude will dislike, because his lord deserves honesty, and because Claude can’t be expected to plan without all the information. Hubert does not always ask for permission, because behind Claude’s facade lies a heart full of compassion. Though Claude always understands the actions he has taken, and reluctantly agrees that they had to be done, Hubert knows that he would refuse the worst of them if asked. So he simply doesn’t, and thus keeps his lord’s conscience clean.

He has given Claude pleasure in ways both small and large. It’s been as simple as deducing the sort of tea he likes, and being certain it is always on hand, or finding books that will delight him. It’s been intercepting nobles with meaningless queries in order to ensure that he gets enough sleep. And it’s been joining him in bed, at times, learning where and how he likes to be touched, how best to make him forget everything for a time.

But what Hubert is most proud of, what he will always see as his greatest accomplishment, is convincing Claude that his loyalty is true.

He saw the doubt in Claude’s eyes the first time they met. He smiled and said, “So you’re the one my grandfather chose to follow me around?” The suspicion was so deep-seated, part of Claude down to his bones, the natural result of a childhood spent with no one to trust. Hubert does not, cannot blame Claude for not trusting him.

It’s taken years. The earliest years in Derdriu, with Claude learning how the Alliance worked, Hubert learning the small things: his likes and dislikes, which of his smiles were real and which were false. Their years at Garreg Mach, Claude finding his place and finding allies, Hubert never far from his side. The years of war, when Hubert slowly learned all of Claude’s secrets, when Claude began to trust him with his plans, and Hubert proved his loyalty by never, ever betraying him.

And when Claude asked him for things, it began as a test: a particular treat from Almyra he liked, just to see if Hubert could get it. Someone’s secrets, to see if Hubert would betray a confidence for him. A kiss, to see if Hubert would. Then that changed too, slowly: a request for information on a supposed ally. History that had been hidden for years and years. Hubert’s hands on his wrists, holding him down.

And finally the things Hubert was not certain Claude would ever trust him enough to ask for: the death of a traitor, which Claude requested with real regret in his eyes. Forbidden secrets of the church, brought to light for the world to see. Hubert’s hand around his throat, bruises beneath Claude’s clothes, complete and utter release.

Hubert always said yes, and Hubert always delivered. With pleasure. With loyalty.

And now this: Claude, turning to him after the coronation of Fódlan’s new king and saying, “Want to come to Almyra with me?” as if it were nothing, as if this secret had not been burning within him for years.

“Of course, my lord,” Hubert says, back straight, lips curving into a smile. As if he would ever have refused. As if he would ever consent to leave Claude’s side.

This moment is what he is most proud of, and will be until he stands at the left hand of the Almyran throne.


End file.
